Lily Among the Thorns
by Blooregard Q. Kazoo
Summary: It's a trying time for a Banished Prince. Zuko must face Commander Zhao once more, and Iroh's prophetic dream gives insight to Lord Ozai's deteriorating mental health. Fixed some spelling errors.


I've fallen in love with Nick's new show, Avatar: The Last Airbender. It's the only anime-knockoff that actually resembles an anime. More importantly, the humor does not rely on slap-stick antics, but well designed and executed dialogue that had me laughing out loud. If only Nick would produce more shows like this one… The events are based on the first four episodes of Avatar, so it's quite possible that my story may stray from the television series once more episodes air. Anyhow, _Avatar: The Last Airbender is copyrighted material, and this story has no affiliation with its owners. _Oh, and happy Pi Day (3/14). Ha, get it… Pi… 3.14...? Math jokes are _never_ funny.

** Lily Among the Thorns**

PART I   
_Green Tea_

From behind the line of trees it looked like a monster's silhouette bobbing in the stormy water. The waves smashed with a powerful force, causing the bulky frame to moan when its starboard side leaned closer to the water. Buoyancy erected the shape and a large horn slashed at the sky, tearing a hole in the foreboding clouds. The sun slipped from the opening and, illuminating the surface, revealed the monster for what it was. A fire ship lay anchored to the sandy bottom with plans of staying until the storm subsided.

Inside the navigation room was Prince Zuko, hunched over a map with a stray bit of cloth.

It would seem silly that a man would make such a fuss over a map. Prince Zuko dabbed the vellum gently, letting the pressure soak up moisture. It was raining again. Thick, heavy drops barreled through the air with such momentum he nearly thought of checking for dents on the ship's surface. He smiled at his display of humor, but a few drops of water from a leaky ceiling washed the smile away.

The problem was quickly fixed with a burst of flame from an index finger. The edge of two ceiling tiles became red-hot and joined together, effectively sealing the gap between them. The coolness from outside and within the small room hardened the metal as quickly as it melted.

His eyes wandered about the map. The off white color was speckled with wet patches, and a purple mountain range was bleeding into a beige desert. As he surveyed the damage, Iroh opened the door behind him. He peeked at Zuko from behind a tray laden with porcelain pieces that clinked against each other noisily.

"I have brought hot tea," he said, "to help warm such a cold night."

"I don't want any," came Zuko's sharp reply.

"You never want tea."

Iroh placed the tray between them and sat across from his nephew. He poured himself a cup of green tea that gave off a spiraling ribbon of steam. The tea pot was part of his favorite set. It was metal, like everything else on the ship, but lacking the monotony of a plain surface he was so accustomed to seeing. A war ship had no need for frippery, but that never stopped him from bringing an ornate trinket or two. He was silent for a few moments before speaking.

"What have you done to my map, Nephew?"

"_I_ haven't done anything. There was a broken seam in the tiling."

Iroh looked upward to see a silver, rippling streak between two tiles.

"And what shoddy workmanship you used. You know, if you didn't leave things lying around like a toddler does his toys, you could have preserved the quality of my map. Do you know why I treasure that map so?"

Zuko sighed heavily. If there was one thing he hated more, it was his uncle's repetition.

"Yes, I do. You've told me a million times that beasts roam certain areas, making it dangerous for a cartographer to wander. That is why such an intricate map is a rare find."

"And yet, young Nephew, you never heed my words," Iroh shook his head and took a sip of tea. Zuko began to fill out his ship's log.

For a while the only sound between them was the scratching of a calligraphy pen on parchment. When it ran dry he dipped the pen in a small jar and tapped it against the lip to shake off access ink. He continued to write until he felt his uncle's eyes upon his hand. He slowly looked up to find Iroh gazing across his parchment, squinting at the characters roughly scribed in bold black lines.

"Perhaps we should take some time from your training to practice penmanship."

The pen was slammed down with enough force to send a drop of ink flying from its tip. It ascended before curving downward to land in Iroh's cup, and the darkness bled through the semi-opaque liquid until it turned a light gray.

"Have you come to criticize me, Uncle?"

"No, I came to share some tea and conversation but found a thing or two to criticize on the way," Iroh raised his hand when he saw Zuko open his mouth in protest, "and thought it might help you. There's more to leadership than fighting."

He looked down at his swirling off-colored tea before rising, chair scraping against the metal floor. His steps were heavy in the silence, and he could feel the pair of eyes that watched him leave. He turned to face his nephew in the doorway.

"Have some tea," he said before disappearing, "your hands will freeze."

For a moment Zuko merely stared at the empty doorway. He bowed his head when the hinges stopped their wailing and the hollow thump of the door slamming ceased its reverberation. _Was that… a ruse?_ His uncle was a man of great wisdom, and perhaps he felt compelled to let Zuko come face to face with own faults - his short temper, in this case. Then again, his uncle was a strange man who would rather play games than worry about creative methods of teaching. Perhaps he was giving Iroh too much credit, and was simply looking for something that wasn't there.

He picked up the pot and poured himself a cup of tea. When he took a sip he could feel the heat traveling down his throat and into his chest. His hands weren't cold anymore after holding the porcelain. His uncle was right, it _did_ warm a cold night.

* * *

The rhino ate a handful of grass from Iroh's outstretched hand. It's lips were rubbery and left a bit of wetness on his palm that was simply brushed off on the back of his robe. The bulky armor worn by the animals was stripped away and piled on hooks nearby. Without the armor the rhinos were a bit smaller, and the way they stood in one place, lazily chewing their food with open mouths, made any uneasiness the animals caused melt away. There were no other humans around, and Iroh marveled at how simple life could be.

Many of the grass eaters he came across were timid, skinny creatures that were always on the look out for some beast that may pose a threat. The rhinos, however, were calm and had no reason to fear another life form. Their skin was thick and their horns were sharp. All they ever worried about was eating their fill and catching the eye of a mate.

__

His life was simple at one point. He enjoyed games, but not the war games his peers were once so fond of. He played chess and solitaire while fellow boys moved their tin soldiers over a map of the four nations, wiping out the enemy troops with a thrust of a hand. He learned many things the other children did not: wisdom, patience, and keeping his emotions in check, all of which helped him become a great general when that was never the goal he had in mind.

He also learned to trust his dreams.

He never had a dream that didn't mean something, and always tried to decipher the message he was being told. His last dream was somewhat of a mystery, but everyday that week it was the same, and every time he saw it, he had a little more of an understanding. Last night the images were so vivid and clear… He could see _everything_.

But voices from outside broke the reverie before he could contemplate any further.

He wiped away a layer of fog from the inside of the port hole and searched the dark blue water. The bow of a small boat was in sight, the rest obscured by the waves that shot upward.

Several soldiers were already lifting the boat when he reached the deck. Two firebenders had returned from the nearby island, perhaps with news about the Avatar. The taller of the two removed his helmet and ran fingers through his wet hair. The rain disappeared but the air was still thick with moisture.

"They say the Avatar passed by," he informed Iroh, "but he never stopped on the island, only flew overhead."

"Are they sure?"

"Yes, sir. Several of the natives told us what they saw - it seemed to be a large cloud moving at a high speed. After a closer look it appeared to be some sort of beast with a huge tail that propelled it through the air."

Iroh rubbed his chin, "Yes, that does sound like the Avatar."

"Should we tell Prince Zuko?"

The retired general sighed.

* * *

Zuko gripped the railing tightly. After several hours of idle waiting, sitting at bay while the Avatar soared ahead, they could finally continue their search. He stared straight ahead to where the sky met the ocean. The sky was smeared with patches of gray, but underneath cerulean shone through in bright contrast. He was out there, _somewhere_.


End file.
